Bitter Candy Hearts
by Killyousall
Summary: Things are going great for Vanellope! She has good friends, a surrogate family, and the title of Greatest Racer Ever! So when an old enemy shows up out of nowhere, can she keep the calm by keeping him hidden? How hard can it be to hide someone who loves the spotlight? This is a Vanellope/Turbo story. Don't judge.
1. We've all got Problems

Things are going great for Vanellope! She has good friends, a surrogate family, and the title of Greatest Racer Ever! So when an old enemy shows up out of nowhere, can she keep the calm by keeping him hidden? How hard can it be to hide someone who loves the spotlight? This is a Vanellope/Turbo story. Don't judge.

Disclaimer: I do not own Wreck It Ralph or it's characters. Thank you!

* * *

Ch 1

Vanellope Von Schweetz! If you asked anyone in all of Sugar Rush to describe the girl who was deemed with such a name, they would tell you with a sneer on their face, that Vanellope Von Schweetz was just a glitch! And a mistake! And an annoying, intrusive, messy-haired racer wannabe! She was all these things rolled up in a sticky mess of trouble. This is how they saw her BEFORE Wreck it Ralph came along and changed everything. If you asked Ralph his opinion on said Von Shweetz, he would tell you that she was President Fart-feathers! Baroness Boogerface! The Greatest Racer Ever! And of course his best friend. Thanks to him she was no longer considered a glitch. Quite the contrary, she was in fact a princess. A true blue-coded royal whom was loved by all. But, for title purposes she preferred to be called President Von Schweetz.

Despite all the hurt the people of Sugar Rush had caused her, she knew deep down in her code that they

would never have acted in such a way, uninfluenced by King Candy, or as the ghostly racer had called himself 'Turbo'! She didn't have it in her sugar coated heart to hold it against them, and as their Princess/President it was her DUTY [giggle] to forgive them for being such stink brains.

Of coarse she had other DUTIES [pffft hahaha] that came with being royalty. Not all jobs were as fun as leading the Random Roster Race. She was in charge of any political decisions that needed careful assessing. To her surprise it wasn't as easy as eeny-meany-miny-mo. It was actual hard work. She was the one the candy citizens came to when there was a problem. Which of coarse included governing any disputes the racers had with each other involving unorthodox racing techniques. This was what led up to the chaos that was unfolding before her as she sat anxiously in her throne-cart.

"Vanellope, could you please tell this dunderhead that it is totally against racing rules to fling peanut butter cup pies at other racers heads!" Taffyta self righteously demanded, fists held on her hips in all her better-than-thou glamour.

Vanellope took a chance glance at said dunderhead, Rancis of course, who at the moment seemed a little more interested in his hand mirror than the accusations being thrown at him. "Uummm, Taffyta, not that I don't agree that it's very rude to throw deserts at people's heads...no matter how funny it is...it's not exactly something I'd call a big deal!" She chuckled despite Taffyta's obvious distress on the subject. The milk haired racer was obviously not amused. Thus Vanellope's lighthearted laugh died down to nervous tittering under the other girl's crystal blue glare. "I'm allergic to peanuts!" Taffyta hissed indignantly, as if it was something the princess was already supposed to know. Vanellope let out a small 'oh', which only served to simmer Taffyta's annoyance.

Rancis, who seemed finally satisfied with his appearance, put the mirror away and turned towards his accuser. "I object!" he huffed in mild annoyance. Taffyta stared at him in confusion. "Object to WHAT?" she demanded. The male racer gave her a rude flash of the hand. "I object to that mop you call a hairdo!" "WHAT?" "It's hardly my fault if you can't go near peanut brittle without puffing up like a fat airhead!" he stated in a matter-of-fact way.

"I AM NOT FAT!" Taffyta screeched.

"Of course you aren't, Fat-tia!"

"It's Taffyta, Peanut butter for brains!"

"Whatever you say, Taffy-duh!"

"I'M NOT FAT, AND I'M NOT STUPID, FLUGGERBUTTER!" her voice cracked.

"Fudge-pudge!"

"GRAAAAH!" By now, hot tears were flooding Taffyta's vision, streaking her rosy cheeks with coal black eyeliner. Vanellope hated seeing her like this. Despite Taffyta's self-absorbed attitude, deep down the girl had really low self-esteem. And of course she was kind of a crybaby. It was one of the reasons that the president had forgiven her so easily after all the girl had put her through. Though Vanellope had yet to reclaim her memory of being a princess in the past, Taffyta apparently remembered them being very good friends. Which of course made the whole bullying thing kind of awkward.

Vanellope stood from her Throne-car in an effort to look imposing. "CAN IT, RANCIS!" she bellowed as best as her tiny body could.

Both racers stared at their pint-sized monarch in surprise.

"Look! No one is fat, and no one is stupid, and NO ONE should be throwing ANYTHING at ANYONE'S head! GOT IT!?" she stamped her foot commandingly. The two racers nodded their heads in unison, with matching expressions of panic. Vanellope grinned in a pleased manner and seated herself once more. This was one of the things she loved about being royalty. She could get away with being bossy. "Now, Rancis, is there something you'd like to say to Taffyta?" she offered.

The male racer got ready to speak his mind, but a sharp glare from Vanellope snuffed out any insults that threatened to leave his tongue. Lest he wish to lose the precious pink organ that allowed him to vocalize, he decided it was in his best interest to comply.

"I'm...Y'know..sorry and junk!" he mumbled with no small amount of humiliation. Taffyta finally stopped crying and attempted to wipe the black from her once rosy cheeks. She smiled, but only a little.

"Thanks!" she whimpered softly, still recovering from the wave of tears. Rancis grinned smugly to himself, mentally patting himself on the back for this small accomplishment. "Your welcome!" he gloated self assuredly.

"I was talking to Vanellope, Peanut brain!" his smile deflated along with the swirl in his hair. Vanellope cringed sensing another argument coming. She turned to her adviser Sour Bill imploringly. "Bill, these two are giving me a banana splitting ice-cream headache. Could you please handle this while I go out for a drive to clear the stink from my brain?" she pleaded. The frowning spherical green ball needed only nod before his mistress was out the door. The only sign that the energetic racer was even there was the pink poof-y pile of princess attire that she had glitched out of before leaving.

* * *

Pain. That was the only word he could use to describe what he was feeling. Oh sure, technically, he could use a whole vernacular of words such as anger, disappointment, hatred, a deep seeded need for vengence, the list went on. But the pain was all that he could think about at the moment. The other feelings could wait.

He tried to move at least one of his limbs, but to no avail. It was as if he wasn't in control of his body at the moment. His whole body was numb. So he was in pain and he was numb...great! Not that it made any sense, but it didn't have to make sense to annoy him. Not only this, but to add insult to very literal injury, he apparently couldn't see. The corner of his mouth twitched in irritation as red cubic flecks flooded his vision. Within the red particles he could barely see his own binary code. What on earth happened to him?

Sudden searing pain shot through his mind like a hot knife. He could remember...fire. A huge beacon of fire. He remembered being burned alive, completely at the mercy of his own insect code. And he remembered the ones responsible for his downfall. That damned glitch and her muscle bound wart-hog of a wrecker. Oh how he wanted them dead. Especially the glitch.

Suddenly the pain stopped almost as soon as it began. All he was left with was a dull headache and the strange tingling in his body. He assumed it was just his limbs regaining the ability to move once more. Carefully, so as not to fall flat on his face, he pushed his torso off of the ground, followed by his knees, until finally he was standing. Or rather leaning on something hard and sticky. Ghostly yellow eyes opened slowly revealing to him his exact whereabouts. The Taffy Swamp. Well that explained why he was covered in sticky gunk. Pushing off of the tree he was using to steady himself, he took at least three steps before landing on his knees once again. Letting out a growl of aggravation he tore a low branch off of the tree, using the candy stick to pick himself up off the ground.

"Ha, success!" he cried hoarsely, having not used his voice in some time. But as soon as he tasted sweet triumph he felt sick bile replace it as his body started flickering red in a most painful fashion. The candy cane he was gripping flickered as well under his touch and soon disappeared long enough for him to hit the ground.

"GRAAAAAAH!" he yelled to no one in particular. Because there was no one there. No one to hear his cries of aggravation. No one to watch his face contort in devastation as he finally grasped his terrible situation. No one to cheer him on. Or tell him he was the Greatest Racer Ever. No adoring fans. No candy people. No Sour Bill. NO NOTHING! Just him...and his newly flawed code.

"A glitch!" he hissed to himself. He held his hand above his head, but the glitching digits did nothing to shield his eyes from the sun. "I'm a code damned GLITCH!" he spit out furiously.

For what seemed like half an hour he stayed on the ground throwing caution to the wind and screeching obscenities at the trees. His once white and red racing uniform was almost fully stained with green taffy when a sudden sound caught his attention enough to make him halt in his fit of profanity.

That sound! It was the most beautiful thing he'd heard in while. The roaring of an engine. The screech of tires. The skittering of chocolate road pebbles being ground into the pavement. There was a kart near. 'If I can't walk,' he thought to himself, 'then I might as well drive!' Grinning madly he pushed himself up behind a nearby candy tree, so as to get a better look at the very much welcomed kart. And of course...the not so welcomed driver.


	2. Stand still so I can kill you

Things are going great for Vanellope! She has good friends, a surrogate family, and the title of Greatest Racer Ever! So when an old enemy shows up out of nowhere, can she keep the calm by keeping him hidden? How hard can it be to hide someone who loves the spotlight? This is a Vanellope/Turbo story. Don't judge.

Disclaimer: I do not own Wreck It Ralph or it's characters. Thank you!

Ch 2

There was truly nothing better than this! The wind blowing through her candy covered hair, Vanellope was in a completely different world from those around her. Now, most would think that when driving at such high speed, one would have to be on high alert, but not her. No, she raced completely by code. No rules could hold her back. No stop signs in this game. Whether she was in the Marshmallow Meadows or the Cocoa Catacombs she was in complete bliss. And though she knew she could simply glitch around or through any obstacles, she knew there was no fun in that. The challenge was too sweet to pass up and raising the stakes just made it all the more tantalizing.

Switching gears she sped up full blast through the taffy covered terrain. Of course she had taken the extra precautions before coming to this particular patch of land, making sure to cover her kart's gummy wheels in flour so as not to stick to the taffy too much. The last thing she wanted was to get stuck in that green muck.

Faster than lighting she switched the gear and twisted the steering wheel, narrowly missing a lone candy tree. Not that she had any intention of crashing into said tree, but skillfully avoiding such a thing only served to peak her adrenaline needs.

There was a strange cry of surprise when she passed the tree and out of pure curiosity she skidded to a halt, stopping at the very edge of a taffy pond. She turned in her seat to look behind, in case she accidentally hit something, but to no avail. The swamp seemed to be empty of any life except for her.

Choosing to ignore the feeling that she wasn't alone, she moved back toward the front of the kart when something black and shiny caught her eye. "SWEET MOTHER OF MONKEY MILK! A BLACK JELLY BEAN!" she cried out in excitement. True enough right beside the taffy pond was a jelly-bean stalk, filled with assorted flavors. And of course, one very rare addition to the rainbow covered candy plant, was a huge black licorice jelly-bean. These particular kind where Vanellope's favorite, so she really couldn't help the drool rolling down her chin. As quick as a jack rabbit, she hopped out of the kart in hot pursuit of her prize, completely missing the red and white figure hiding behind a nearby tree.

Clutching his pounding heart under his racing uniform, Turbo tried desperately to calm himself from the panic of almost having his head taken off by Vanellope's Kart as it whizzed past his hiding spot. 'Why?' Turbo seethed silently banging his helmet protected head on the candy cane tree trunk. 'Of all the racers to come this way, WHY did it have to be HER?' He cursed his luck. How was he supposed to plan the perfect revenge, if this dumb glitch already knew he was back from the dead? Where was the element of surprise? He prided himself on being sneaky. He glared at nothing until an idea suddenly hit him. Why not get rid of her right now? There didn't appear to be anyone else around. Nothing to stop him from wringing her pretty little neck. Stepping out from his hiding spot he sauntered up to the jelly-bean stalk, his thoughts filled with all the delightful ways he could end the glitches life. Watching Vanellope carefully as she bounced from branch to branch, he decided he would very much like to see her fall and break her neck, if not every bone in her tiny body. So, as to accomplish his sweet little daydream the older racer started climbing up the Jelly-bean Stalk in pursuit of his prey.

Unfortunately, this was no easy task. The racer was not accustomed to such exercise if the small paunch under his uniform was any indication. Walking was one thing. Running, well, let's just say he didn't like it. Climbing, ….he'd never really tried it before. So the effort it took for him to pull himself up on even the lowest branch, had him severely doubting his ability to catch the little pixie. Looking up at the higher branches, he seethed in jealousy as Vanellope hopped gracefully to and fro, using her small stature and sugar induced bounce to get to her destination. Every time he even got close to her she would spring back into action and her ankle would narrowly evade his grasp. He was starting to get the idea that she knew he was there and was simply making it harder for him at his expense. But, from the distracted sparkle in her eye and the drool wetting her pink lips, it was all too obvious that she had her mind on one thing and one thing only. Getting that Jelly-bean!

In her sugar-lusting daze, Vanellope had yet to even notice the angry racer at her heels. She was at least four feet away from her destination, when a sudden squawking broke her out of her dream like state. Apparently she wasn't the only one that noticed the treat, because suddenly, out of nowhere, a licorice crow landed on a branch right next to the dang thing. "Hey!" she hollered at the avian creature, "That's my jelly-bean! Get your own!" Unfortunately this didn't faze the ebony colored bird, as in response it simply cocked it's head at her. "Aw, is this to much for your widdle bwain to understand? Well how about this!" On cue she let out a huge raspberry in the birds direction. Still nothing. She growled in aggravation at the creatures stubbornness. "Alrighty, pal, you made me do this!" She quickly made her way closer to the bird, hopping as high as she could in an effort to scare the thing away! "Shoo! Beat it, Beak Face!" she hollered. Her distraction of course became her undoing the moment she landed on a double-striped branch only one foot away from the bird and the jelly-bean. In less than a second the branch gave a blooping sound as a warning and disappeared from underneath her, her black boots giving way to only air.

By now, Turbo, of course, had completely forgotten his mission, and had spent the last few moments staring in confusion at the black haired girl, as she yelled at the licorice bird. 'How on earth does this kid manage to run a kingdom? She's more insane than I am! ...Wait?...' A sudden shriek broke through his thoughts and he found himself being plowed off of his own branch by the sudden impact of someone else's body weight. Both racers unconsciously gripped one another in fear as the two were knocked from branch to branch like a pin-ball machine. The licorice bird silently watch the amusing spectacle as it dined on the jelly-bean Vanellope had so desperately wanted. The pint-sized duo landed roughly on the ground below still holding onto the other for dear life.

"Ooow!" Vanellope groaned dramatically releasing her grip from the soft lump she had landed on. "That last step was a real doozy!"

She chuckled at her own joke until a second groan of pain was heard underneath her. Gasping in surprise she looked down to meet a pair of glowing yellow eyes, slightly dilated from the fall. Surrounding the eyes was a pale gray face with a petite upturned nose and a toothy yellow frown. But what shocked her the most was the white racing helmet with a bright crimson 'T' insignia on the front.

"TURBO!" she shrieked in terror. The man beneath her cringed at her shrill high pitched squealing, clutching his aching head in annoyance. "GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU SICK, TWISTED, FREAK OF A VIRUS!"

Turbo glared at her indignantly. "Get away from YOU? YOU'RE THE ONE ON TOP OF ME!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. No sooner had the words left his mouth than the two racers quickly realized their awkward position. Vanellope felt her stomach drop, looking down to see that she was clearly straddling the older racer's hips. Shrieking once more she threw herself off of the ghostly man, hopping from foot to foot with a continued mantra of "Ew! Ew! Ew!"

Getting up from his position on the ground, Turbo couldn't help but smirk cruelly at her now cherry red face. His amusement lessened however as she continued to dramatically complain about how gross he was. "Oh please! Just count your self lucky I wasn't the one on top of YOU!" he stated, calmly readjusting his helmet. His grin returned of course when her red face paled and she blanched in disgust.

Waiting for the pixie to calm down obviously wasn't an option, because as soon as she stopped griping and repeating the word 'SICK!' she started berating him with a plethora of questions regarding his existence.

"How the fudge are you alive? I saw Ralph turn you into a pile of smoldering code! This shouldn't be happening! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING!" The little glitch was in complete freak out mode now, as she began hyperventilating on the spot. Against his better judgment, Turbo was starting to get a little worried she might pass out. This brought a frown to his already dour face. Shouldn't he want the glitch to pass out? It would make deleting her all the easier. Although...! Turbo watched as Vanellope started tugging at her candy coated hair in anxiety. Where was the fun in killing her in her sleep. No, he wanted her to know what it feels like to be burned alive. He wanted her to suffer. But for now he'd simply watch her squirm.

"Surely you realize that I'm already a part of this game right? I still have my code intact under the name 'King Candy'! The only part of me that couldn't regenerate was the cybug part." She stared at him in disbelief. And then slowly her lips curled into a smirk. "Soooo, you realize this means you can't kill me either, right?" She mocked.

"What are you talking about? Even without my cybug form, I could easily squeeze the life out of your puny little body!" He retorted, clenching his fists in irritation.

"Ha!" she scoffed, folding her arms and jutting out her hip in a teasing manner. "You couldn't even kill me with my code all jacked up! What makes you think you can do it now that I can regenerate as well?" Her smirk widened knowingly as he glared heatedly in an sad attempt to kill her telepathically.

'Of course!' he groaned mentally. How the heck had he convinced himself that he could simply throw her out of a tree and be done with it? He needed some way to permanently delete her code. But how?

"And before you even think of going after my code," She spoke as if reading his thoughts,"Sour Bill already helped be change the password to the code room. So you're fresh out'a luck!"

Sour Bill? Turbo felt a small sting of betrayal at the thought of his former trusted adviser helping the little glitch that stood triumphantly before him. But it quickly faded. He didn't need friends. He needed fans! "Code or not, I could still drag you into another game and finish you off there!" He growled, not willing to back down. Despite his threat, he was a bit uncertain on whether he actually could leave the game. From the look of things he doubted his glitching body would allow him through the gate. But the threat took it's toll none the less as Vanellope's smirk completely vanished. She stared at Turbo for a few small moments before glaring at him and disappearing in a flash of blue lightning. Panicking slightly he looked around. He couldn't allow her the opportunity to escape and get that muscle bound warthog she called a friend. Yellow eyes shifting, he caught sight of her once more, but it was too late. She had already revved up her kart's engine and was speeding past him. Face contorted in anger, he made a mad dash for the back of her kart, hoping to grab hold of her from behind. The racer was by no means slow, though he hated exercise, but even with all the adrenaline in the world he couldn't hope to keep up with a go-kart! Still, it didn't stop him from trying. Pushing himself way beyond his physical limit, he struggled to match the kart's speed when suddenly his vision became impaired and his whole being was stricken with pain. Red pixels clouded the image before him and he lost sight of the kart and Vanellope. If this wasn't enough to aggravate him, fate had apparently decide that it would be amusing to see him run head on into a tree.

Vanellope kart screeched to a halt as soon as she heard the sickening crack of his helmet colliding with the large confectionery stump. Biting her lip hesitantly trying to decide whether to go back and see if he was hurt or not, she let out an defeated sigh. "I must be out of my mind!" she hissed at her soft hearted coding. Tentatively backing up her kart she was met with a sight she never thought she'd see. There on the ground was a clearly unconscious Turbo, but that wasn't what surprised her. No, what surprised her was the red binary pixels consuming Turbo's body in a hectic fashion. Having lived with it all her life she immediately recognized the error that the racer was stricken with. She slid out of her seat and approached glitching body carefully. The closer she got the more agitated the pixels became, flickering out of control like a wild fire. And like any small child curious enough to play with fire, she felt a strong urge to reach her hand out and touch it. But as soon as she came into contact with the red binary her own hand started fraying into it's own blue, pixelated frenzy and mixed with the red coming off of turbo. The two colors merged together creating a haunting, yet pretty shade of purple. Fearfully, Vanellope pulled her hand back and stared at it. It looked no worse for the wear. Returning her gaze to Turbo she noticed that the pale racer was once again whole, all glitching ceased. Once she deemed it safe to touch the older man, she grudgingly started pulling him toward her kart, all the while cursing her own foolishness. Once she had him securely laying across the back of the confectionery vehicle, she took off in the direction of Diet Cola Mountain. As she silently drove, she kept one eye on the rear view mirror, making sure that the back seat racer didn't wake up or fall off. And all the while as she glanced back at his pale, ghostly face, an eery thought echoed off the walls of her mind. For a small , miniscule moment...her and Turbo had shared codes.


	3. Haircuts and Helmets

Things are going great for Vanellope! She has good friends, a surrogate family, and the title of Greatest Racer Ever! So when an old enemy shows up out of nowhere, can she keep the calm by keeping him hidden? How hard can it be to hide someone who loves the spotlight? This is a Vanellope/Turbo story. Don't judge.

Disclaimer: I do not own Wreck It Ralph or it's characters. Thank you!

* * *

Ch 3

Waking up was never considered pleasant as far as Turbo was concerned. To be ripped away from all you desired within your own perfect little world didn't strike him as something to look forward to! But, there were small moments in which he grudgingly swallowed those words. Because, eventually, as all dreams go, the golden trophies and cheering fans that inhabited his self important dreams would not be enough to drown out the horrible feeling that all was not well with his subconscious, and his perfect dream would soon be filled with nothing but manifestations of his inner turmoil. The trophy would rust as red as blood and he would feel the stinging accusatory glares being sent at him from his usually jovial fans. They were grabbing at him, ripping at his uniform. One suddenly grabbed his helmet!

Turbo suddenly grasped as reality hit him. No, this wasn't just a dream! Someone was taking his helmet off FOR REAL!

Whilst Turbo slept not so peacefully, Vanellope had to deal with her own inner turmoil.

* * *

"Have you gone completely PEANUTS? Of course I haven't! I'm dealing with the problem in a calm and mature fashion. Oh really? Cause to me it looks like you're helping out a psychopath who's tried to kill you on several occasions. Oh come on, he only tried to kill me twice. Twice is a more than unacceptable number of murder attempts. Look at him! He's helpless. And a glitch knows how to handle a glitch best, right! RIGHT! Well, Miss president, I can't argue with that logic! Of course you can't! You're me and I'm you! Which can only further enhance the inevitable proof that I have most definitely lost it!" Vanellope paused in her rant to give her self a pat on the back when suddenly an almost incoherent murmur came from the unconscious racer behind her. She had of course already arrived at Diet Cola Mountain, and parked the kart, but the hard part of her job was lobbing the slightly larger racer onto the makeshift sponge cake bed. Despite the fact that everything within the mountain had been burnt to a crisp by the beacon Ralph had made, it seemed as if everything that had been destroyed, besides the cybugs, was regenerated. Go fig!

More curious than concerned, Vanellope snuck up to Turbo's side silently so as to hear what the unconscious racer was mumbling. Whatever he was dreaming about, it didn't sound pleasant.

"N-no sthtay back. I'm warning you!" He yelled at no one. Vanellope stifled a giggle. His lisp seemed to show through when he was angry AND when he was scared. When she got closer he let out an angry growl and turned in his sleep, now facing her with a snarl on his face. Though his eyes were still closed she could feel his heated glare through those pasty lids.

"Geez, even in your sleep your in a bad mood!" she quipped in response to his unintentional rudeness.

She stared at him for a few seconds. And then a few minutes. Soon she found it was hard to win a glaring contest when your opponent isn't even participating. "Ok, ok, you WIN! You're the all time reining champ of grumpy faces!" she cried out in exasperation. She was quickly getting bored with this unresponsive company and nothing in the world was more dangerous than a bored Vanellope. Just ask Ralph and Sour Bill. They had loads of horror stories to tell about her boredom episodes, and as she stared down at Turbo in irritation an idea struck her. A quick cure for her boredom. Grinning like a mad chipmunk she crawled closer to the racer, keeping her gleaming mischievous eyes on her target. A pearl white racing helmet with a crimson insignia in the shape of a T.

"Alrighty, grumpy face, time to see if you actually have hair under that helmet of yours. She highly doubted it, but the older racer always had a way of surprising her. Throughout the years of her knowing him only as 'King Candy' [though she liked 'King Crazy' better] he always seemed so withdrawn. Sure he acted goofy and talked a lot, but it all seemed so...fake! The only times she ever felt like she was looking at the real 'King Candy' was when he finally snapped and let loose all his anger toward her. She would always be surprised by this. He would yell and shout and point at her accusingly, but in the end he always caught up to himself and sloppily through the facade back on, settling for patronizing her in a sickly sweet tone that made her want to retch. But...even then, when it seemed that his little fit was over, she could swear that behind that grinning calm expressions she could see glowing yellow eyes glaring threateningly at her. Of course once he involuntarily revealed himself during the Random Roster Race, there was no doubt in her mind that she wasn't just imagining things. Those eyes gave her chills.

Another groan from Turbo ripped Vanellope out of her thoughts and reminded her of the important task at hand. Carefully she placed her hands on the helmet pausing only when he murmured a threat. Though it pained the young racer, who was never used to pacing herself, she slid the helmet of as slowly as her hyper, sugar filled body would allow her. Finally the truth of what lie beneath the helmet was revealed to her. And she sat there and stared at it with sparkling hazel eyes, the racing helmet still held midair as if glued to her fingers. She didn't laugh. She didn't chortle. The only thing that left her pink lips was one singular, involuntarily word. "Woah!"

Sleek raven hair grew in choppy lengths from the racer's head. It almost seemed like it had been made for the speed of the road, because it was indeed shaved into one strait line across Turbo's cranium. She wanted to touch it.

"So, Turbutt's got a mohawk, huh?" the older man didn't respond. She didn't expect him to. She bit her lip in anxiety. 'I want to touch it, but what if he wakes up?' she asked herself thoughtfully. As if in response another thought popped out from the back of her skull. 'So what, if he does! It's not like he can do anything to you! He's glitchy!' she reasoned. But as soon as she made a move to reach for his scalp, a cold, pale hand caught her wrist, stopping her from satisfying the growing urge to see if it was really as soft as it looked.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!" Turbo hissed, awakened by the removal of his helmet. Now sitting upright he was a lot more imposing. For a moment she felt her heart skip. She thought it was out of fear, but the heat coming from her already rosy cheeks stated otherwise. With him glaring at her accusingly whilst she still held his helmet, she almost felt a little kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Guilt was settling in on her and she needed to get out of the spotlight fast. "Nothing!" she said mouse-ish-ly hiding the helmet behind her back. 'Real smooth, President Fart-feathers. That the best you could come up with?' The helmet was still in plain sight behind her tiny stature, so she highly doubted it was helping. 'Curse you, Turbo, and your freakishly huge head!'

"GIVE ME BACK MY HELMET YOU LITTLE PEST!" the older racer reached to snatch the white and red article away from Vanellope's offending hands, but he was still dazed from having just woken up, so it didn't take much for her to yank it out of his grabbing reach.

"Ah, ah, ah! Not so fast Turbreath!" She continued to pull the helmet in random directions as he ran to rip it from her grasp. He missed every time. "You're not getting this back until I accomplish my current goal!" she said in a matter-of-fact tone. This made the older racer curious. He paused mid pounce to give her a noncommittal questioning look. "Oh really?" he ask challengingly. "And what, pray tell, is this goal!" Of course the look he got in return was anything but what he expected. The small pixie like girl stood with her toes turned toward each other, eyes cast to the side trying not to look at him. Her tiny pearly white teeth bit into her lip anxiously as she unconsciously hugged his helmet. He silently cursed himself for finding her uncertainty anything close to cute.

"Weeelll!" she started out. He waited impatiently, but found it to be irritating. "SPIT IT OUT!" he yelled. The girl jumped in response, holding his helmet, if possible, even tighter than before, as if she expected him to attack her. She closed her eyes in anticipation and shouted out her request in hurried, almost incomprehensible sputtering. "CanItouchyourhair?"

For a moment he thought he had heard wrong, so he asked again. "I'm thorry, WHAT?" he blurted.

The girl continued to shift on her feet but answered him nevertheless. "I said... can I touch your hair?" she squeaked.

Seconds ticked away as she waited for him to start yelling at her. But it never came. Slowly she opened her hazel eyes to find him giving her an almost funny look. He just stood there, staring at her as if this was the oddest thing anyone had ever asked him. It probably was. His eyes were wide and scrutinizing. His mouth was parted slightly as if he wanted to say something, but just couldn't find the words. His arms which had previously been in a strangling position now sat slumped at his sides not knowing what to do with themselves. His very being was so completely un-Turbo-ish, that she couldn't help but find it hilarious. So she giggled.

His glare was almost instant. It was as if her gurgling little laugh had broken his stupor and brought him back to his senses. How dare this little brat make fun of him. His cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment the longer she continued to laugh.

"Oh, tho you think thath funny do you, you little glitch? WELL HOW ABOUT I MAKE FUN OF YOUR DIRTY MOP OF HAIR!" He bellowed in indignation. He was so angry that his lisp was becoming much more prominent. Vanellope forced herself herself to stop giggling, if only to get him to stop throwing a tantrum.

"No, wait! I'm sorry! It's just... that look you were giving me was too much. I couldn't help it." she explained , attempting to soothe the racer's anger. He continued to seethe in spite of this. "Come on, I meant what I said. I really do want to touch your hair! It's cool looking!" He stopped glaring, but still scrutinized the pixie, trying to decide whether it was a trick or not. Seconds passed in silence between the two before he finally gave his answer. "No!" he simply stated.

"WHAT! OH COME ON!" Vanellope whined. "I'm not letting you run your sticky little fingers threw my hair!" he reasoned. Now it was Vanellope's turn to be angry. She couldn't believe this creep.

"My hands are totally clean! Which is more than I can say for you!" She said motioning to his suit

not pausing to register his offended look. "The only part of you that's NOT covered in taffy is your hair, which I'm still going to touch, by the way ,if you ever want to see your precious helmet again!"

"I thaid no and thath's final!" He said crossing his arms. The two glared at each other for what seemed like an hour before Vanellope decided to break the silence with a singular noise.

"Hmmm!" she said thoughtfully to herself, though her eyes never left his. He would have asked what this meant, but the sound she made spoke for itself. It took a few seconds to register, whilst he watched her turn to walk away with his helmet, but it finally hit him like a ton of bricks. 'Hmmm!' obviously meant 'We'll see about that!'

As she strided past a large rock out of his view, he quickly followed suit, with morbid curiosity, not liking where this was going. What did this little twerp intend to do with his helmet. As he passed the large rock he quickly got his answer. And he didn't like it one bit. In front of him, threatening to burn him alive once again, was a large boiling moat of what looked like soda. And there, on top of an unfinished race track, was none other than Vanellope Von Schweetz, holding his precious head gear above the destructive liquid.

"WHAT IN MOD'S NAME DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING?" Turbo shrieked. "Pfft, that's a dumb question!" she sassed holding his helmet at the tip of her tiny fingers. If possible Turbo turned paler than he already was. "I DEMAND THAT YOU GIVE ME BACK MY HELMET, RIGHT NOW, YOUNG LADY!" He bellowed. This only made the tiny racer laugh bitterly. "Hey news flash Turbutt! You're not the king anymore. You can't tell me what to do. You're in MY game, you're in MY home, you follow MY rules. You got that!" she wasted no time laying down the situation and it didn't take long for it to sink in. Turbo gave her a the most defeated look she had ever seen on anyone but herself. Her princess side almost felt guilty, but her president side reminded her that he deserved this. Sure it was a bit over reactive given her reasons for doing it, but after all that Turbo had done to her, she couldn't help but feel she had the right.

Turbo felt the reality of the situation crash down on him unforgivingly. She was right. As much as he hated admitting it, at this very moment he wasn't the king. He wasn't the main avatar of a beloved racing game. And he held nothing over her head to make this girl fall on her knees and do as he demanded. Vanellope Von Shweetz! The once thing he couldn't control in all his years as a monarch, had won! The tables were turned and he was now nothing more than a glitch stuck in HER game! The thought put a sour taste in his mouth he knew not even sour bill could cause. But! He thought to himself for a moment. Just because it's that way now, doesn't mean it's going to stay that way. His thoughts suddenly took a more sinister color. Fine! Let the PRINCESS have her way! FOR NOW! I'll play along, be her little lap dog, and when I find a way to get rid of her, I'll take back everything that belongs to me!

He paused in his thoughts once more when a sudden idea shot through his mind like a lightning bolt.

No! He frowned. Lap dog wasn't his style. Instead of catering to the brat, why not have her cater to him! He grinned. Thinking back to how she had acted before she suddenly turned into a pompous brat, it would be all to easy to make her fall for him! 'With the look on her face she probably would have done anything to touch my hair. Of course now she's threatening me but that behavior can easily be broken.' The old carrot and stick method. If she's good, give her a cookie! If she's bad, give her a spanking. He inwardly chuckled. He'd have the spoiled brat eating out of his hands in no time.

"HEY!" Vanellope's impatient voice broke through his plotting mind. He looked up to see her giving him an almost defeated look, still holding out his helmet. "My arm's getting tired! We got a deal or not?" He grinned inwardly. She was pretty weak willed for one supposedly accustomed to blackmail. It would make breaking her all the easier.

"Fine" he said simply! It was best to let her think she was winning at first, so he gave in just this once. He almost smirked when she let out a huge 'YIPPIE' and glitch her way over to him in a zipping motion.

The racer made a move to grab his helmet, but once again she yanked it out of reach. "Ah, ah, ah!" she grinned patronizingly. He glared, confused for a moment until she voiced her intention. "Kneel down!" she commanded dramatically. He growled but complied nevertheless.

Quickly she pushed the helmet into his hands, so as to free her own of it's heaviness, and allow her more access to his scalp. With him kneeling she could easily reach out and skim her eager fingers through the surprisingly soft locks that adorned his skull. It was oddly thrilling to be able to play with such a strange haircut, especially since it was worn by someone as unapproachable as Turbo. Once again she felt the thrill of playing with fire.

Turbo himself would have loved to complain about how uncomfortable he was to have some snot nosed brat messing up his hair, but at the moment he wasn't so sure that it was 'unpleasant'! She was right when she said her hands weren't sticky. They were actually warm and inviting, almost comforting, and for a moment he imagined this was what a dog felt like when it's master pet it.

He blinked.

I am no dog and Vanellope Von Schweetz is not my master. 'Stick to the plan!' He berated himself.

"OK, I think that's enough for one day, don't you agree?" he quipped softly forcing her hands away. She seemed disappointed, but strangely she complied. "Ok, Turbutt!" she said smiling in a supposedly pleasant way, despite her insult.

He frowned, but held himself in check lest he ruin everything.

"So, Miss Von Schweetz!" He tried to ignore the delighted look she gave him at the title. "Where exactly are we?" It's always best to know the environment you're stuck in. Never know when it'll come in handy. He paused. 'Wait a minute!' he stared at his surroundings. 'I know this game back and forth! How is it possible that I have no idea where I am?"

"Welcome to the inside of Diet Cola Mountain! My Home Schweetz Home! Well...previously anyway! I actually live in the Candy Castle now!" She paused in her rambling when she noticed Turbo was giving her an odd look. Almost like he wanted to kill something. Hopefully not her.

"Hold it, Pixie, you said that we're INSIDE Diet Cola mountain?" He asked, his voice seething with rage. That couldn't possibly have been what she said. Something must be wrong with his hearing, because this stupid pixie did not just say that they were inside-

"Yup!" was her simple answer. "Why?" she asked worriedly. But she didn't get an answer, for at this moment Turbo was too busy replaying in his mind every damn time Vanellope had escaped him at the base of this very mountain. Vanellope slowly backed away as the angry racer clenched his fists in silent fury!

"Uuuum, Turbo? You Ok?"

'THAT BITCH!'


	4. I hear DEAD people!

Things are going great for Vanellope! She has good friends, a surrogate family, and the title of Greatest Racer Ever! So when an old enemy shows up out of nowhere, can she keep the calm by keeping him hidden? How hard can it be to hide someone who loves the spotlight? This is a Vanellope/Turbo story. Don't judge.

Disclaimer: I do not own Wreck It Ralph or it's characters. Thank you!

Ch 4

"GRAAAHH! THAT DAMN, AGGRIVATING, BRATTY, SNOTNOSED, FLAWED, PINT-SIZED, DOE-EYED, PIXIE-FACED, MANIPULATIVE, CAPRICIOUS, PIECE OF DAMAGED CODE!" Turbo continued punching the wall for every contradicting insult he spit out. He was furious! He was irate! He was...well let's just say he'd put a raging bull to shame. And at the moment this angry bull was steaming mad because he had just found out how a certain little bull fighter had been escaping from him all these years.

"A SECRET ENTRANCE! A DAMN FLAW IN THE SIDE OF THE CODE DAMNED MOUNTAIN! HOW COULD I HAVE MISSED SOMETHING SO OBVIOUS!" he once again punched the peanut brittle wall of the mountain, leaving a crack. Wow, this stuff WAS brittle! He groaned at the pain in his fist from impact before finally sitting down on the spongecake bed he had been resting on previously. 'No point in hurting myself over something that can't be fixed!' he thought to himself bitterly. "If I should be hurting anyone, it's that GLITCH!" This he said out loud, half hoping that Vanellope was somewhere near to overhear his threats. But, sadly, the little pixie had run off, rambling something about quarreling racers, BIG DUTIES, and Sour Bill getting a bonus in his salary. The pale racer huffed in disbelief. Since when does that cough drop get paid?

Turbo shifted his golden eyes downward to the confectionery he was currently sitting on, only to crinkle his nose in disgust. There were no blankets to keep cozy, though he supposed the heat radiating off the hot cola made up for that. There were only a couple of used candy rappers, too small for even Vanellope. The pillow was just a pillow mint, which, despite the name, wasn't very comfortable at all. How could the glitch stand living in such a dump. 'Well, ya didn't give 'er much of a choice, did ya, shorty!' Turbo's eyes shot open at this sudden thought. Since when did he start feeling bad for the glitch? And more importantly, SINCE WHEN DID HIS THOUGHTS START INSULTING HIM?

'Since you went off the deep end and tried to off yet ANOTHER game! Yeah, smooth move on dat one!' a voice replied. Now the racer was getting confused. Not to mention aggravated. Why didn't his thoughts sound like HIM anymore? 'Probably because we're NOT you, short-stack!' said a voice similar to the previous, but a bit higher in pitch. 'Yeah!' said the deeper voice, 'And good thing too! If we were you, we'd be ugly!' the two voices laughed in unison at Turbo's expense. The racer growled in contempt. Forget confused! Forget aggravated! Those two things were simply flung out the window by Turbo's ever growing rage.

"ALRIGHT THAT ITH IT! SHOW YOURTHELVTHS, THO I CAN STHRANGLE YOU!" He shrieked in white hot fury. There was utter silence for a few moments before sudden hysterical laughter erupted from out of nowhere, mocking him. 'BWAHAHAHAHA! OH, MOD! HIS LISP IS EVEN WORSE THAN USUAL!' giggled the higher pitched voice. 'I KNOW! Heh! But, come on, little bro, we really can't take ya seriously when you yell! Maybe try calming down a bit, yeah?'

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!" Turbo yelled, thus silencing the voice. "Did you justht call me bro?!" He inquired, purposely ignoring the 'little' part, as it would only cause his anger to rise. Now that he thought about it these voices sounded quite familiar. The Jersey accents were a big giveaway. 'DING! DING! DING! WE HAVE A WINNER!' the deeper voice shouted enthusiastically. Or was it mockingly. 'Honestly, can't you recognize your own brothers?' The other voice took this chance to chime in, 'Well, technically, Jet, he can't really see us!' it said. For a moment there was silence before the first voice sheepishly chirped 'Oh yeah! Sorry, forgot!' For some reason Turbo got the feeling the other voice was rolling his eyes. Maybe it was because he was doing this as well. WAIT!

"JET? SET? WHATH GOING ON? YOU TWO ARE STHUPPOTHED TO BE DEAD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THITH GAME? And more importantly...WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HEAD?!" he demanded knocking his fists against his helmet in an effort to force the two pests out. Or at least make them shut up. The last thing he needed was to be hearing voices. Especially that of the dead! The thought of being haunted by the Turbo Time Twins was as appealing as jumping into hot cola.

'Jeez, Turbs, don't go into cardiac arrest! We've technically been here since our game got unplugged, y'know!' Jet explained. 'Yeah!' Set chimed in agreement, 'We've just been kickin' back, watchin' the show! And we gotta say, bro, we're a bit disappointed in ya!' Turbo was having a hard time soaking up the information being thrown at him, but it didn't mean he was too distracted to notice the scolding tone in Set's voice. Great, just perfect, here comes another riveting criticism. How nostalgic! "What are you going on about?" he demanded.

'Hmm, let's see! Well, FIRST you took over da lil' cutie's game and tried to delete her. THEN you turned her into an outcast and spent seventeen years ruining every chance of her ever racin' again. Now dat's just cruel!' Turbo rolled his eyes, but allowed the disembodied voice to continue. 'And THEN, to top it all off, in a mad attempt to salvage every 'ting you worked so hard to steal,' the sarcasm lacing Set's voice did not go unnoticed, 'YA TRY TA SMASH HER HEAD INTO A STALAGMITE!' he yelled as if in complete disbelief of Turbo's stupidity.

"ALRIGHT THATH'S ENOUPH!"Turbo yelled, his spittle moistening the air. "Where exactly are you going with this?" He demanded furiously. If they thought they could guilt him into being nice to the pixie, then boy were they in for a rude wake up call. Foghorn rude, to be precise.

'If ya really plan on doin' dat, we should remind ya dat dat would entail YOU putting a foghorn to ya OWN head! Which, I gotta say, would not be a smart move on your part!' Set stated flippantly, followed by a non too ashamed comment from Jet that 'It would be darned funny though!' Set chuckled in agreement.

"GET TO THE POINT!" Turbo groused impatiently, pale hands threatening to rip Vanellope's wrapper blankets to shreds. The two brothers were tap dancing on his last nerve.

'Look, all we're sayin' is maybe you should at least make an effort ta get along wit' da girl. It couldn't hurt, and you at least owe 'er dat much.' Set reasoned. This time Jet did not agree. But this did not mean he kept silent, though Turbo wished he would. It was a rare occasion that Jet would actually say something intelligent. 'Dat's not da point at all, Set!' the younger twin drawled. 'It aint?' Set inquired. 'No! Da point is dat Tur-brain should stop actin' like a little brat wit a crush, and actually kiss dis chick, instead of pullin' on 'er ponytail unproductively!' Jet stated with a bluntness that would put Vanellope to shame. For a moment there was silence, then finally, "Oh yeah! I guess dat's a good point too!" Set agreed.

Little known to the distracted twins, as soon as Jet started spouting his theory of romance, Turbo, in a fit of rage, lost all sense of good judgment and decided the best way to get rid of the disembodied voices, was to smash his helmet protected head into a peanut brittle wall. Now, this didn't make the racer, by any means, smart. It just meant that Jet's shamelessly idiotic comment had thrown him off the deep end. Literally! Backing up a few more inches he decided he was far away enough to build speed and thus stated, in a tone more befitting of a madman such as himself, "I'D PUT ON YOUR STHEAT BELTHS IF YA DON'T WANNA BE A CRASH DUMMY!" With that said, he charged.

'WOAH! WOAH! TURBO WHAT ARE YA DOIN'?!' the two voices shrieked in unison. "GETTING RID OF YOU ONCE AND FOR ALL! TURBO TATHTIC! The pale racer shrieked, and much like a raging bull, rammed himself helmet first into the mountains confectionery wall. His vision flashed with white binary upon impact and suddenly a whole new world of pain opened up to him.

"AAAAARGH! SHIT! THAT HURT!" His screams did nothing but make the dull ache worse as they echoed off the cave walls and came back at him full force. Rolling on the ground, holding his head between his clenched hands, he waited for any kind of confirmation that his plan had worked. So far it seemed like it, for there were no voices berating him for his incompetence.

"WHAT THE FUDGE IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

Or not!

"Why can't I leave you alone without you plowing your fat head through the nearest object?"

Of course! If there was any moment for the pixie to show up, it had to be when he was inflicting pain upon himself. Nothing cried humiliation like self-torture with an audience.

Vanellope stared at Turbo in exasperation. 'Really, I leave for like a minute and I come back to this? This is so far beyond stupid, it's on the other side of crazy!' she complained internally. Turbo stopped clenching his helmet and tilted his head back, giving him an upside-down view of a very irritated Vanellope Von Schweetz. She stood in a way that spoke immense attitude, with her hip jutting out and her arms crossed. Her strawberry pink lips were pouted and her hazel eyes bore into his yellow ones harshly. She was the spitting image of a disapproving house wife. All she needed was a pink apron and a wooden spoon to smack her husband with. If Turbo said that he didn't find it the least bit adorable, he'd be lying. He shook his head, attempting, but failing miserably, to get rid of such thoughts and focus on the fact that Vanellope was addressing him with another question.

"I'm thorry, did you thay thomething?" he inquired, lazily clasping his arms behind his head, making it appear that he was lounging instead of just sitting in a painful heap on the ground. If he was going to get caught dazing off then he might as well make it look like he was ignoring her on purpose.

"I 'thaid' what are you doing?" Vanellope demanded, not at all liking his attitude. She was starting to think leaving him to drown face first in taffy would have been a better idea. It was certainly the more appealing option at the moment.

"Trying to end my misery! What's it look like to you?" he flippantly replied. Crap! This wasn't good. How was he going to get anywhere if he couldn't even pretend to be civil with the brat. 'Then again!' he thought to himself, watching as her face screwed in irritation, 'She wouldn't fall for that anyway. I mean if I just suddenly go from jackass to Mr. Rodgers then there goes all believability! Oh, Maybe I could play the loveable jerk!'

"Well if that's what your going for, then MAYBE you should try something a little harder than peanut brittle, Turbutt! I'd advise a nice hard candy, perhaps a jawbreaker!" Vanellope hissed, sarcastically approving his voluntary brain bashing. If he wanted to knock some sense into himself, she certainly wasn't going to stop him.

At this, Turbo grinned cheekily, all of his golden teeth glinting like a cheshire cat. "And I'd advise wearing a longer skirt, Doll!" he quipped in a tone that suggested less than appropriate intentions. Of course, even from his position on the ground, he had no such view under the aforementioned garment, but it was entertaining letting her believe he'd had a look. His smirk only widened at the satisfying squeak the girl made, attempting to cover her stocking covered legs, along with whatever else she assumed he'd ogled.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF GUM DROPS IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Vanellope shrieked indignantly. He almost burst into his trademark giggle with each new shade of red that her face changed. He even saw a bit of salmon in the mix, how delightful! "Too many things to count and most of them unpronounceable!" he said nonchalantly, deciding offhand to add schizophrenia to the list, due to recent voices in his head. The racer pushed himself off of the ground and dusted himself off. "But enough about my mental state. What EXACTLY do you have in store for me Miss Von Shweetz?" he inquired taking on a sudden seriousness.

Vanellope stopped panicking instantly to look at him questioningly. "Waddaya mean?" she asked. Turbo scoffed but answered her nonetheless, though it pained him to have to spell It out. After all, this was his fate they were talking about. "Well, you must at least have some idea of what you're going to do with me, Vanellope!" he turned away from her trying not to notice her reaction to the use of her name. This was a serious situation. "You're the monarch here, so you're in charge of making certain decisions. So, my question is do I have my life to worry about or can I assume you're the merciful type?" He asked grimly. He was almost afraid of what her answer might be. Sure most would assume there was nothing to fear from the small pixie, but if he was being honest with himself, she had always posed a threat to him. Even before she became friends with the meat headed wrecker. Even before he had taken over the game. Even without trying, this girl was dangerous to him and his plans. And he'd be damned if he ever underestimated her again. It had cost him one life too many.

"What kind of dumb-butt question is that?" Turbo inwardly flinched at her offended tone. Great, now he'd pissed her off. No way was he going to live long enough to exact his seduction plan. She was sure to hand him over to the wrecker "I ought-a throw your helmet in the cola for even ASSUMING I'd stoop to your level!" ...WHAT? Turbo turned around in surprise only to be met face to face with the glare of Vanellope Von Shweetz, both of their petite noses pressed together. "Look, PAL, I don't know what kind of show you think I'm running here, but I am no tyrant! I may threaten execution once in a while, and YEAH, I may get a good laugh out of it, but while I'm in charge NO ONE is getting deleted! Ya here me?" she emphasized this claim by poking him in the chest. Turbo stayed silent, letting her words sink in. Quite frankly he was stunned. After all he had put the glitch through, she was letting him live, just like that? There had to be some kind of catch.

"So, then what are you going to do with me, Pixie?" he demanded, lightly shoving her out of his proximity. And just like that, the girls confidence was gone. She opened her mouth as if to speak, finger raised in the air, only to let it drop, casting her eyes to the side guiltily. "I...don't...exactly...know! I guess I didn't really think this through." Her sheepishness was not at all lost on the older racer.

"Now, hold on, let me see if I got this straight!" he said, eying her patronizingly. "You dragged me here, into the center of a mountain, that I suppose only you and the wrecker know about," he circled the young girl slowly, enjoying her sudden discomfort, "unattended, unguarded, and otherwise completely helpless," he paused, practically eating up the deliciousness of the situation, "and now you don't even know what to do about it?" Turbo stopped directly behind her, grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

Vanellope suddenly whipped around to face the slightly taller avatar, her ponytail slapping him in the face. "Hey! It's not like I had much of a choice, ya know! You were face first in the taffy, glitching out of control. Heck, I could hardly touch you without you're stupid pixels trying to-" she stopped, eyes widening at the realization of what she'd almost admitted. But Turbo wasn't having it. "Trying to what, Vanellope?" he demanded suspicious of her behavior. What did this glitch know that he didn't. She stared at him pensively for a moment, before simply stating, "Nothing!" She turned away, leaving the irritated racer growling behind her.

"I will get answers, Vanellope!" he threatened, glowing eyes burning into her small back. She didn't sneer. She didn't hiss. She didn't even blow a raspberry. She just gave him an unreadable expression and said, "You can't get answers from somebody who doesn't have them!" And with that she glitched through the nearest wall, leaving him alone with his thoughts again.

"..."

'Well, dat could 'ave gone better!'

"Shut up, Jet!"


	5. Till Death Do Us Part

Things are going great for Vanellope! She has good friends, a surrogate family, and the title of Greatest Racer Ever! So when an old enemy shows up out of nowhere, can she keep the calm by keeping him hidden? How hard can it be to hide someone who loves the spotlight? This is a Vanellope/Turbo story. Don't judge.

Disclaimer: I do not own Wreck It Ralph or it's characters. Thank you!

Ch 5

Sour Bill knew what his job entailed. He was the right hand candy of the princess, someone she could count on, when need be. If she was troubled then it was his job to fix the problem to the best of his power. And though he was not an especially sensitive hard candy, even he could tell that something was bothering Vanellope. The way she practically chewed through her bottom lip made it kind of obvious.

At the moment, the sour ball and young monarch were in the royal kitchen. Vanellope had a habit of using baking as a stress reliever. However it seemed that today the stress was being, not so much relieved, but instead assaulted. "SOUR BILL, IT WON'T STIR!" Vanellope loudly complained, whilst dragging her spoon through the thick concoction she had created. The wooden utensil creaked and splintered in protest, threatening to break at any second. "You put too much sugar in, Your Highness!" he drawled in his usual monotonous tone. He was starting to think she'd forgotten what they were making, for the ingredients being thrown into the mixing bowl were getting more and more random by the minute. Unfortunately, to the young racer, herself, these ingredient weren't random at all.

Cherries!

Marshmallows!

Strawberry gumdrops!

Powdered sugar!

Candy canes!

They all had something in common. They reminded her of Turbo. She didn't even realize this until she'd thrown in a few lemon drops. She had somehow managed to arrange them in such a way that they resembled his hellish gold grin and glowing eyes. The mix of red, white, and yellow suddenly made her sick to her stomach. This of course led up to her savagely jabbing at it with her wooden spoon in an attempt to make it go away. But it wouldn't. It was stuck there. In her world. Plotting her demise. And it was all her fault.

"Your Highness, not that it's any of my business, but is there something, perhaps, bothering you?" Sour Bill inquired reluctantly, despite the dry tone.

SNAP!

The spoon broke in half, leaving little wooden splinters all over the concoction of colors. To Vanellope it only made the image more horrifying. She instead turned her eyes over toward the green candy ball that had addressed her. "Uuuuuhhh, what makes you say that?" she asked, trying her best to look inconspicuous. This of course did not fool the round ball of sourness. "Well, the fact that you just mutilated the cake mix, for one!" The young racer eyed him with genuine surprise. Not because he'd accused her of murdering a pastry mix, but because this whole time, she'd thought they were making brownies. Whelp, live and learn!

"Weeeeeelll..." she started, unsure of whether or not to tell him of the dangerous criminal she was, at the moment, harboring in the center of Diet Cola Mountain. Yeah, that would go over swimmingly! "Sour Bill, do you think I'm a good ruler?" she asked. It was a start. Sour Bill's expression did not change. He simply nodded his head and said, "You are an exceptional ruler, kind and caring toward your subjects. Everyone in the game loves and respects you." The young princess sighed, feeling a bit more at ease. "Do you think I make good choices?" she couldn't help asking. This time Sour Bill did not bother hiding his concerned expression. "Why the sudden self doubt?" he inquired. Vanellope shifted on her stool, kicking her short legs back and forth. To tell the truth, she'd been feeling this way ever since her conversation with Turbo a few hours previous. He was right. She didn't think about what she was doing and now she was stuck with a huge problem. She had no idea what had compelled her to help the older racer, but just seeing him there, unconscious and glitching out of control, somehow she felt pity for the poor pasty guy. For a moment she envisioned that the taffy was replaced with chocolate mud and it was herself laying there helplessly glitching. Her coding could not allow for her to simply leave him there to his misery, and in that moment she'd made a quick decision to shelter him, if nothing else. She couldn't help wondering if her decision had been the right one.

"It's nothing, Sour Bill." she grabbed a new spoon and continued stirring, hoping he would leave it at that and not question any further. Unfortunately this was not the case, for suddenly the spoon and bowl both fell through her hands, clattering to the floor in a messy heap. Vanellope squeaked in surprise, almost falling off of her stool. "YOUR HIGHNESS!" Sour Bill yelped, staring at the young monarch's hands. Scared beyond belief she held her hands up to her face, examining them with horrified eyes. They didn't even look like hands anymore. The small appendages were now fraying into many tiny pixels. This was not what worried her, for she was more than used to the glitching. She'd lived with it for seventeen years and eventually the pain had dulled. But this time the pain seemed to come back ten fold, and what's even more confusing, the pixels where no longer their usual electric blue. No, now it was amethyst binary that consumed her hands. A soft shade of purple had replaced the blue. She screamed, not from pain, but from heart wrenching fear.

"SOUR BILL, WHAT'S HAPPENING?" she cried, hot tears rolling down her face. The green sphere was frozen, not knowing how to help his princess. "I...I don't know!" he sputtered, feeling beyond useless. "S...something must be wrong with the codes!"

"TAKE ME TO THE CODE ROOM, NOW!" Vanellope shreiked, her entire body now wracking with purple binary.

* * *

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAH" Turbo shrieked in pain, dropping the gumdrop he had been eating. It wasn't the same type of pain that the red binary had caused him. No, this was different. The red binary glitching had felt like a thousand needles were being shoved into his body. This felt like a piece of his coding was being ripped out. This was an internal pain.

"JET! SET! WHAT'S GOING ON IN THERE? WHAT DID YOU DO?" He demanded staring at his now purple arm as it glitched spastically. This was insane. Why was this happening?

'We dunno! We was just sittin' here and every' ting just started flashin' purple!' Set stuttered almost incoherently. "WELL MAKE IT STOP, IT HURTS!" the pale racer bellowed, causing the twins to squeak nervously. 'Ya tink we know how? You're da code master here, not us! We are not getting da blame if you get brain damage.' Jet argued.

"AAAAAARGH"

'And dat screamin' is not helpin!'

* * *

Sour Bill hurried as fast as he could down the hall leading to the code room, trying his best not to drop the bundle of purple binary currently crying in his arms. "Don't worry, Your Highness! We're almost there!" he sputtered, attempting to comfort the poor girl.

Finally he reached the door to the code room, gently setting Vanellope against the wall so he could type in the password. He was frantic. Sure he had helped Vanellope change the password, but he had not a clue what to do once the door was open. He had no real experience with codes, always leaving that job up to King Candy. The man always got angry if he even looked at the codes. The Sour Ball sighed, remembering all the pain Candy had put the princess through, whilst he just sat there and watched obediently.

"Up, down, left, right, A, B, B, A, Up, Start!" he recited, pressing in the password. The door opened with a large whoosh, startling the green sphere. He quickly grabbed some licorice rope to tie around himself, lest he get trapped in the gravity lacking chamber. "I'll be right back, Your Highness!"

"NO" the young racer shrieked.

Sour Bill paused in surprise. "But, Your Majesty, I must find the problem and fix it-" "NO" she didn't want him going into the code room. She didn't know what he would find in there, and she herself didn't want to find out either, but if it had anything to do with the recent events she had brought upon herself, she didn't want him seeing it.

"LET ME!" she cried out in anguish, reaching for the ropes. Her request was unsettling to the sour adviser. "Your Majesty, I don't think-" he started, but Vanellope wasn't having it. Pushing herself off the ground she fixed him with a stern look and motioned for him to help her with the ropes. He hesitated for a moment before finally giving in. "Yes, Your Highness!" he grunted, helping her tie the ropes around herself, forming a life line. After this task was finished she stood in the code room's doorway, bracing herself to jump. "Be careful, Your Highness." Sour Bill warned. Vanellope nodded before leaping into the abyss.

Within the code room many wires floated in a confusing tangle, seemingly all connected. There were codes boxes of many shapes, sizes, and colors. After getting used to the weightless feeling the room held, Vanellope floated into the hairball of wires, desperate to find her own royal code. For a moment she let fear take over her mind at the thought that, somehow, Turbo might have found his way into the code room again. But, she immediately passed it off as ridiculous. Pushing past a large clump of codes belonging to the racers, the young monarch finally found what she was looking for, and more. Yes, she'd found her code, but it was not in the same condition she had left it in after her last visit to the code room. No, something was different. Something was wrong. So very, VERY wrong. There seemed to be an extra port in the side of the code box with a new wire connected to it. There was purple electricity shooting through the wire. Each time the electricity bolted into the code box her body would jolt with pain and pixels. Not knowing what to make of this she decided to follow the wire and see were it would lead her. What she found she was not prepared for. Reaching the end of the wire she saw that it connected to another code box. A very familiar code box.

"No!" she barely whispered.

There in front her was a name. A name which, for months, had haunted her nightmares. A name which was notorious throughout the arcade. A name that made her skin crawl and butterflies form in her stomach. Printed in bold, crimson letters on the large white code box was the name 'TURBO'!

"No! No no no NO! That can't be real!" she reasoned, beginning to panic. But as the large box flashed purple, and sudden pain shot through her body, she knew there was no denying it. This was very real. The implications of this scared her immensely. "BILL! SOUR BILL, PULL ME OUT, NOW!" she cried out in anguish. The tugging of the liquorice rope indicated that the hard candy had heard her and was pulling her back with all his might. Soon the horrifying image disappeared from her sight. But not from her mind. It was stuck there, burning into her brain so that she would never be able to forget. Finally back on solid ground she quickly untied the ropes binding her. "Your Highness, is something wrong? What did you see?" Sour Bill frantically asked. But Vanellope didn't hear him. She couldn't hear anything but the loud hissing of code spinning around her avatar. It was deafening. Like the white snow coming off a damaged television. Why was this happening. What had she done to deserve this.

Turbo!

Turbo had to be behind this, he just had to. It's the only thing that would make sense. With a sudden snarl on her face Vanellope used all her strength to glitch out of the code room entrance and reappear next to her kart in the royal mechanics room. Without a second of hesitation she revved the kart up and sped out of the castle quicker than lightening. "YOUR MAJESTY, WAIT!" Sour Bill ran out the front entrance as fast as his little feet could manage, but he was too late. Vanellope was already gone in a cloud of smoke.

* * *

Turbo wasn't faring as well as Vanellope, but he was holding his own. Even if she'd had more experience with this sort of thing, he was stronger, and he wasn't going to simply take this lying down. Leaning against the cave wall, he breathed heavily in an attempt to hold in his cries of agony. He was gritting his teeth hard enough for them to break.

'Hey, Turbs, you gonna be O.K.?' Set asked hesitantly. Save for the hissing of binary and Turbo's harsh breathing, it had been silent for a while, and he couldn't help but feel he should say something.

"Oh, yes, I'm just dandy! How bout you? You having fun in there?" Turbo hissed in contempt. Really, what kind of stupid question was that? Of course he wasn't O.K.

'Well Soooorry! Da light show goin' on in ya head ain't exactly dat swell either! In fact, I tink Jet is slippin' into a seizure!' Set retaliated.

'I bit my tongue!' Jet randomly whined.

'Thanks for da update, Jet!' Set drawled.

"WOULD YOU TWO SHUT UP! I HAVE ENOUGH PROBLEMS WITHOUT THE VOICES IN MY HEAD ARGUING!" The Turbo screeched. What in the name of MOD could possibly make this worse. His mental inquiry was immediately answered by the sound of a kart whirring outside. It sounded close. Suddenly from out of nowhere Vanellope, along with her kart, came glitching through the mountain wall, not even an inch away from him, driving over his foot. "AAAAAAARGH" he yelped in pain, as he clutched the injured appendage, hopping too and fro. "MY FOOT! YOU STUPID PIXIE! YOU RAN OVER MY FOOT!" He knew he was stating the obvious, but he wanted her to know that it was her fault he was currently in more pain than necessary.

"SERVES YOU RIGHT, YOU STUPID, PASTY FACED, VIRUS!" she yelled in return. How dare he act like she was in the wrong. This was all his fault. She was practically choking back the tears, she'd been holding in.

Turbo paused in his hopping, to glare at the young racer. "What are you going on about. What could I possibly have done within the last few hours to warrant you smashing my pedal foot?" He honestly had no clue. He just assumed the pixie was crazy.

"DON'T EVEN TRY ACTING INNOCENT! I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU DID OR HOW YOU DID IT, BUT YOU'RE GOING TO FIX IT RIGHT NOW!" she demanded pulling herself out of the kart. Turbo gave her a dry look that obviously stated none of her claim made any sense. How was he supposed to fix something if she couldn't even tell him what it was.

"I've been stuck in here, where you left me, unable to leave, since Your Highness wasn't exactly nice enough to show me an exit, dealing with mind numbing glitch attacks! I can't do anything with the state I'm in. So if you think you can accuse me of ANYTHING, Pixie, then you've got another thing coming!" he hissed, turning away from the girl to examine his smashed foot. No sooner had he looked away, when Vanellope let out a pain filled choke and doubled over. Sharply looking back at the younger racer, he was astonished to find that she herself was covered in purple binary, face stained with tears, obviously in pain. A second later he felt the same pain wracked through his own body, but he was too busy staring at the girl to pay it any mind.

"How long has that been happening?" he demanded, not really worried about Vanellope, but what this could mean for him. It seemed they were both stricken by the same ailment. This did not sit well with him at all. Vanellope said nothing, too much in pain to even form a sentence. Turbo suddenly lost all patience and stomped up to the girls shaking form, ignoring his own pain. Grabbing her collar, he pulled her up to eye level. She was frightened, but as she stared into his glowing golden eyes the pain seemed to stop altogether. "You didn't answer me glitch! How long has this been happening to you?" the older racer demanded once more, not noticing his own, sudden, lack of pain. "Um...I..a little under half an hour, I think." Vanellope sputtered, failing to find her words fast enough. 'Under half an hour?' Turbo thought to himself.

"Dat's about when you started, ain't it?' Set inquired, only heard by Turbo himself.

'I don't like where this is going.' Turbo mentally replied.

"Tell me something, Glitch! Why are your pixels suddenly purple?" If she had anything to do with what was happening to him, he wanted to know. Vanellope stared at him with wide eyes, before glaring ferociously. "Don't act like this isn't all your fault. I know you messed with the codes! I SAW THEM!" she hissed like a wild cat. He suddenly felt pain where her boot connected with his shin. The shock caused him to release his grip on her hoodie and drop the young monarch. "ARGH, I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO YOUR STUPID CODES!" he shouted, holding his leg. "LIES!" Vanellope accused, pelting him with the gumdrop he had been eating. It didn't do much besides bounce off his helmet. "I don't know what connecting our codes is supposed to accomplish, but let me tell ya, this has got to be the sickest thing you've ever done!"

Turbo stood frozen, staring at Vanellope as if she had just shot him. That ….couldn't be true. That was impossible. Code fusing doesn't just happen. It takes immense knowledge of codes. It was a ceremonial thing, more intimate than marriage, and dangerous as all hell. That's why hardly anyone did it anymore. It was in a way, taboo. It meant that they were part of the same life force. They were one.

"Our...codes are...fused?" he whispered almost inaudibly. He barely registered the confusion on Vanellope's face. He felt numb. He wanted her to laugh in his face and tell him it was all a bad joke. At least then be could throttle her without hurting himself. Not only did this mean he couldn't kill the glitch, it meant he was stuck with her. Forever.

"Yeah, that's what I just said, Turbutt! What, do ya got cotton candy in your ears?" she sighed, in annoyance. "Now either you fix this, or I tell Ralph to smash your helmet in like a jawbreaker!" the small racer spat. This made Turbo laugh bitterly. "I wouldn't do that unless you want a splitting headache yourself! My fate is now your fate, unfortunately." The very thought made him want to vomit. Or cry! Neither of which sounded very pleasant. So he settled for plopping down on Vanellope's old bed and hiding his face in his hands, not wanting to look at the girl he was now fused with.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Vanellope questioned. Turbo's head snapped up, eyes narrowed at the young racer, as if what she asked offended him. In a way it had. He had no wish to describe the complexity of codes to the glitch. Especially if it involved code fusing. Why that was like asking him to explain the birds and the bees. Disgusting! "You just don't get it do you, Pixie? We're stuck like this! I have no idea how to separate our codes without killing the both of us. And despite how much the very thought of being fused with YOU makes me want to commit suicide, I still have a lot of things I'd like to accomplish before deletion. As far as I'm concerned it's impossible!" Once again his head dropped anxiety.

Vanellope still wasn't sure if she understood the whole of the situation, but none the less, this new bit of information was starting to take it's toll on her mind. She suddenly felt as useless as he did. Without a word she trudged her way to the bed, feet dragging, head hung low. She silently dropped down beside Turbo's feet, leaning against the bottom of the confection, eyes wet with tears yet to fall. The older racer tried to ignore her, but the sudden sound of sniffling caught his attention. His yellow eyes fell down to the girl below him, and he instantly regretted it. He'd never been good with people crying. It unnerved him to no end. Another heart wrenching sob was heard before he finally decided to take action. Growling in irritation he grabbed an item off the bed and forced it into her line of vision.

"Here, Glitch!" he abruptly stated, hoping she would take the item without question. Vanellope gasped, at the sudden invasion of her space, but calmed when she spotted what he was holding. A candy wrapper. She turned to him with questioning eyes. Avoiding her innocent gaze, he tried to ignore the feeling of embarrassment that heated his once pale face, choosing to simply state that, "It makes a better handkerchief than blanket!" It only got worse when she giggled, the bubbly quality of it echoing throughout the mountain. "I guess it is kind of small, isn't it!" she joked, halfheartedly. She silently thanked him, reaching for the tiny scrap of paper. He was ready to release the trash when she suddenly screamed. "TURBO!" He jerked his head down just in time to see his own pixels trying to devour Vanellope's hand.

"WHAT THE HELL?" Turbo screeched, staring at the clump of pixels that had once been hes hand. They were once again back to their usual crimson. Likewise, Vanellope's pixels were once again electric blue, but they didn't stay this way, no! Within a matter of seconds the pixels mixed becoming that familiar shade of purple. The female of the two was completely freaked out, while Turbo was simply astonished. "NOT AGAIN!" she yelped, pulling her arm back and effectively breaking the connection. And unfortunately, bringing the male racer back to his senses.

"Again?" he inquired, standing up suddenly. He scrutinized Vanellope with an accusing gaze, while the latter scuttled back in fear. "What do you mean 'AGAIN'!?" the pale racer demanded

"Well,...I..uh..that is..." Vanellope stuttered over her words, as his threatening shadow engulfed her. Silhouetted by the lava's light, eyes glowing like fiery embers, he was indeed terrifying.

"Do you mean to tell me that THIS HAS HAPPENED BEFORE!" he bellowed.

"I WAS JUST TRYING TO HELP, YOU STUPID TURBUTT! YOU WERE DROWNING IN TAFFY AND YOU WOULDN'T STOP GLITCHING, AND I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!" she cried defensively, more angry at her self for even helping the jerk, than she was at the jerk himself.

"WELL A GREAT LOT OF GOOD THAT DID! WAY TO GO MISS HELPER, YOU'VE DOOMED US TO A LIFE OF HATE FILLED PARTNERSHIP!" he yelled in return, before suddenly pausing, a thoughtful look encompassing his pale face. At the abrupt silence and lack of yelling, Vanellope chanced a look at Turbo, hoping his fit was over. It seemed to be. Either that or he was in shock.

She stood from her spot on the ground and tentatively approached the taller racer. "Uh...Turbutt? Helloooo? You in there?" she questioned, waving her small hand in front of his face. Maybe his avatar was malfunctioning and his face was stuck. Felix told her that's what happens when you frown too much. And MOD knows Turbo wasn't one for smiling.

"THAT'S IT!" he suddenly yelled grinning like a maniac. Vanellope fell back in surprise. 'Guess I spoke too soon!' she thought to herself.

"GREAT!" she chirped excitedly, before letting her face drop in confusion."Uuuuh, what exactly is 'It'?

"The answer to my problem!" he explained, beaming with joy.

"Uh, don't you mean OUR problem?" Vanellope added.

"Yes! Yes! Whatever!" the pale racer drawled with an arrogant flick of the wrist. "The point is I know how to fix this!" Vanellope rolled her eyes, but nonetheless let him continue. "So, watcha got for us, Oh Great and Powerful Codemaster?" she sarcastically gushed. Whatever his plan was, it couldn't be TOO much of a toilet flusher. Either Turbo didn't recognize her sarcasm, or he really was just an arrogant oaf, because he just seemed to smirk at the title chosen for him.

"Now listen carefully, cause I'm only going to explain this once!" he ordered in an 'I'm smarter than you tone'. "Code fusing is a very delicate process between two avatars that, for some reason that I cannot even begin to comprehend, want to share a life together. " Vanellope raised her hand, earning a dull look from Turbo. "NO, it is not like marriage! It's much more complex and suicidal. Not to mention stupid. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," Vanellope raised her hand again. "WHAT!?" he yelled. Vanellope shifted a bit before saying "I have to take a bathroom break" Turbo's eye twitched for a moment before he finally submitted. "FINE! JUST MAKE IT QUICK!" Vanellope glitched out of the cave then came back in a matter of minutes. "O.K. Carry on!" she ordered. Turbo glared at her for a moment before continuing.

"As I was saying, there are only two known ways that code fusing can be accomplished. One is through a ceremony held within the code room, in which only the two avatars, and one avatar chosen for their knowledge of codes, are present. The two promise their lives to each other, the code fuser creates an unbreakable wire between the two code boxes, yada yada yada, they're fused. This is the official way to do it. We seem to have become victims to the unofficial, and more physical way." he paused, inwardly groaned at his own phrasing. Despite how he said this was nothing like marriage, he was making it sound an awful lot like canoodling before the vows. He hated this. But if he didn't explain it, she was going to get the wrong idea about his intentions. ...WAIT! Weren't his intentions to seduce her in the first place, to get to the codes? It wasn't like he actually wanted to romance the glitch. Hell no! This was just a minor set back in his plans, that was all.

Turbo looked up to find Vanellope staring at him oddly. It was then that he realized, he'd gotten sidetracked. He cleared his throat. "Ahem, ANYWAY, the unofficial way involves a bit more sacrifice on both sides. Ya see, the two avatars find a way to damage their codes enough to have them both susceptible to glitching, at least for a number of times before they repair the codes, if they know how. While this glitch is occurring, the two must have physical contact in order to fuse. This must happen at least a total of three times or else the two will become unstable and eventually be prematurely deleted."

"Uh, yeah, great science...or health lesson, but what exactly does that mean for use?" Vanellope questioned impatiently. Really, this was just giving her a headache.

Turbo sharply glared at the young monarch before giving his ominous reply. "It means, Miss Von Shweetz, that if we don't either seal the deal, or find some impossible way to separate those two code boxes, we're as good as erased. And since I'm not exactly eager to spend my everlasting days with a brat, I suggest you find someway to get us both into that code room, pronto."

Vanellope's jaw almost came unhinged. "Do you seriously think that I'm just gonna let you waltz right into the castle and mess with my code?" she demanded, giving him a look that accused insanity.

"Not particularly, but let me ask you this, Pixie., " he hissed lowering himself so that they were face to face, golden eyes boring into hazel ones. "What choice have you got?"


	6. No, I'm Driving!

Things are going great for Vanellope! She has good friends, a surrogate family, and the title of Greatest Racer Ever! So when an old enemy shows up out of nowhere, can she keep the calm by keeping him hidden? How hard can it be to hide someone who loves the spotlight? This is a Vanellope/Turbo story. Don't judge.

Disclaimer: I do not own Wreck It Ralph or it's characters. Thank you!

Ch 6

"I THAID I'M DRIVING"

"AND I SAID I DON'T CARE!"

"I'M A BETTER DRIVER THAN YOU! GET IN THE BACK!"

"WHAT? NO WAY I'M SITTING BACKSEAT! IT'S MY KART!"

"WELL I'M OLDER AND TALLER, SO I SAY TOUGH!"

"WELL I'M SUPREME RULER OF SUGAR RUSH, AND I SAY, MOVE IT OR LOSE IT BUCKO!

"CAN'T LOSE WHAT YOU NEVER HAD!"

"Uh...wait what?"

"JUST LET GO OF THE WHEEL!"

"MAKE ME!"

This had been going on for a very long half hour. All panic over life threatening issues aside, Vanellope and Turbo simply would not risk their pride by being chauffeured around by the other.

"You already stole my old kart! I am not letting you drive off with this one too!" Vanellope hissed. She trusted Turbo as far as she could through him, and as far as she was concerned, this was giving the ghostly racer the perfect opportunity to ditch her and make a detour to the code room unsupervised.

On the other hand, to Turbo this was no more than his inability to let another have the spotlight. And letting Vanellope of all people drive him around, as if he was incapable of doing so himself, was the worst blow of all. "It's not like I'm going to drive off without you, Pixie! As much as I'd love to do so, if you haven't noticed it's kind of painful for us to be apart!" Vanellope raised a brow in confusion, so he explained further. "We're linked, kid! The further we stretch the wire, the more it's gonna choke us! Did you think that was just another glitch spasm? No! That happened cause you decided to leave little old me by my lonesome!" Turbo sneered.

Vanellope blanched, contradicting the flush of pink across her cheeks. "Yuck! Way to sound like a cheesy love song!" 'As if this couldn't get anymore gross-gusting.' she inwardly griped.

"Yeah well, this biz ain't exactly the easiest to explain, even by scientific terms. You try describing the intimacy of eternal binding versus certain death, without coming off as a spurned victim of an unrequited romance!" With that Turbo put on the theatrics, placing both hands over his non-existent heart, with a false look of hurt painted across his pale face. This lasted about a millisecond before he reverted back to his usual smirk. The pure ridiculousness of it all caused the little sprite of a girl he was stuck with, to burst into a fit of hysterics.

"Pfffthahahahaha! Oh my hee heh, oh MOD, that's sick." she giggled, face red in exhilarated amusement. "Heh! You,ha, you should do stand up for black comedy, cause that's gotta be the funniest, most messed up thing I've ever heard in my life. And believe me, I know messed up. I've seen you in your coconut cream facial masks. That is just scary!"

Despite the obvious jab at his bed time rituals, Turbo was a bit surprised by her willingness to joke around with him. Nevertheless it didn't stop him from joining in on the fun. "Oh please, pixie! You think anyone can just look this good overnight? It's a full time job being this irresistible!" This was all it took to reduce Vanellope to a giggling mess on the ground. "OH MOD, STOP! HAHAHEH, I CAN'T TAKE IT! IT HURTS! HAHEHA[SNORT] I CAN'T BREATH!" Turbo knew he should be taking this as an insult, but now, looking down at the poor pixie, as she held her stomach and unsuccessfully fought away jovial tears, he couldn't help but believe he'd just found the best form of torture known to man.

Grinning in amusement he kneel-ed down beside her as she struggled to get up. "Geez, glitch, do you have any idea how vulnerable you're making yourself right now?" he commented whilst poking her in the side. "In this state I could probably say ANYTHING and it would leave you sounding like a deranged hyena!" When this comment only served to worsen the girls hysterics, he decided it was the perfect time to test this theory.

"Butternuts!"

"PFFFAHAHAHAHAHA"

"OK, I think we can conclude that you're in no shape to be driving!" he pointed out.

"WHAT!" Vanellope screeched between giggles. Turbo grinned condescendingly as he knew he'd gained the upper hand. He quickly jumped into the seat of Vanellope's kart before the girl could make any verbal protests. "I said I'm not letting you drive, Miss Sugar High! You're obviously under the influence." he accused jokingly. By now the ebony haired pixie had gained enough control of herself to decipher exactly what he was going on about. "Hey! I am not on a sugar high...at the moment!" Vanellope's hazel eyes shifted guiltily. At this Turbo laughed. "Oh, so I suppose those Fun Dip packages by your bed aren't recent?" he inquired daringly. "Oh that's rich coming from you!" she quipped. He raised a brow as she continued. "From what I gathered from Bill, your a regular hoot at Tapper's! Let me guess, your usual is Root Beer? Or is it a fruity number? Apple Cider?"

"Woah, hold on there, pixie! Why were you and Sour Bill talking about me!" Turbo demanded with sudden interest.

Vanellope's eyes were suddenly as wide as dinner plates as Turbo tapped his foot on the pedal expectantly. 'Wow, talk about bein' trapped between a rock and a hard place!' "OK, FINE! YOU WIN! YOU CAN DRIVE!" she huffed indignantly.

"Much appreciated, glitch!" For now he would let it go, but later he expected answers. And this time he was going to get them. If the pixie had went through the trouble of asking Sour Bill about him, then his seduction plan might turn out better than he'd previously thought. 'The 'killing the glitch' part of the plan might have to wait a bit though. I'm not exactly a fan of suiciIIIIIIIIDE!' Turbo's mental planning came to a screeching halt when a sudden pressure on his lap made itself known. Whilst he was distracted Vanellope had apparently saw fit to use him as a seat. How...aggravating.

"Vanellope?" he attempted to hiss, but for some strange reason, all he could manage was an embarrassing squeak.

"Yeah, Chief?" she piped as if nothing was wrong.

"What do you think you're doing?" the no longer pale racer demanded.

"Uuuuh, I 'think' I'm sitting!"

"Yes, yes! Of course! How sthupid of me! And here I thought you were standing. NO, Vanellope, WHAT ARE YOU DOING SITTING ON MY LAP?" he bellowed, now red in the face. He was just lucky the blood was headed for his face and not anywhere southward.

"I think you just answered your own question!" Vanellope deadpanned, giving him a dry look.

"YOU KNOW VERY WELL WHAT I MEAN, YOUNG LADY!"

"Well, what did ya expect, Turbutt? I gotta sit somewhere!" Vanellope didn't understand what his problem was. She knew the older racer liked his space, but the freak out episode was a little bit uncalled for. 'I still need my eardrums, thank you very much.'

"Look, Tur-brain, I don't know how you envisioned this happening, but I am NOT riding on the back of the kart, so if you expect us to get anywhere, then yer just gonna have to suck it up and deal with it! Does this compute, oh Master of Codes!" she explained as if she were talking to a child. She might as well have been. He sure was throwing quite the childish tantrum.

"This does not sit well with me!" Turbo griped. Vanellope didn't miss a beat. "I know what you mean! You don't exactly make the comfiest cushion. But, I guess my tushie will just have to deal with it!"

"Great!" Turbo grumbled. "Now if you would be so kind as to point out the exit." Vanellope's tiny finger thrust in the direction of a large chasm within the mountain. "Just drive straight through there." No sooner had the words left her mouth, than Turbo's arms suddenly flew past her head to grab the wheel. His high top covered foot slammed down on gas pedal and they were off. Neither racer even flinched at the feeling of passing through solid code. Vanellope was all too used to it by now and Turbo had dealt with his fair share of hidden doors. He was actually quite surprised he had missed this one, but then he reminded himself that it wasn't part of the track, so it didn't matter at the time. All at once both avatars' senses were assaulted by the vibrant outside world. The smell of sugar permeated the air in a way that would make even the strongest of diabetics squirm. The always constant sun blinded them for only a moment before returning it's rays to the rest of the land. But the things that really caught their attention, was the sound and the feel. The gentle purring of the engine. The wheels grinding into the dirt. The wind combing through their hair. Or rather Vanellope's hair. Turbo of course was incapable of feeling such a sensation due to the fact that he wore a helmet. But Vanellope! Her hair fluttered and danced with the wind as it howled it's song in her eardrums. For a moment, as the girls ponytail whipped about at his face, the scent of butterscotch wafted past his petite nose. As soon as he caught himself inhaling the delicious scent, he immediately gave himself a swift mental slap.

"Hey, Pixie! Your hair is in my face! I can't see where I'm driving!" he complained halfheartedly. It took a moment for Vanellope to get the message, but as soon as she did, she immediately apologized. "I'll lean back if it'll help!" she shouted over the wind. Before he could respond, the small fairy like frame of Vanellope found itself nestled flush against his chest, so that her head sat just below his chin. And even worse, the smell of butterscotch was now right under his nostrils.

"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath.

"What?"

"I SAID 'CRAM IT'!

"Okay, okay, sheesh!" Vanellope pouted, crossing her tiny arms.

Soon enough, as speed would permit, the candy castle came into their sight. Vanellope had to wonder how her convicted company planned on getting passed the OREO guards. She was immediately answered when Turbo sharply pulled the wheel to the left, leading them to a small gorge made of dark chocolate. "Turbo...Turbo wait...wait, wait, HOLD ON, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Vanellope's sharp cries of fear where purposely ignored. Slamming his foot down on the gas pedal, Turbo drove the kart straight off the road's edge and into the center of the gorge. Not even a second later, both racers, kart and all, found themselves inside the royal garage. Perfect! He knew he'd chosen the right spot!

"Are we dead yet?" came a small muffled whimper.

Non-existent brow raised, Turbo glanced down to find Vanellope clinging to him for dear life, with her face hidden in the crook of his neck. For once he was stumped. He didn't know whether to mock her or rudely tell her to get off. A tiny part of him didn't want her to move at all. This of coarse irritated him, thus he went with a death threat.

"No, we're not dead. But that can be easily fixed if you don't get your damn mitts off me!" he hissed poisonously. Surprisingly enough, she didn't let go immediately. Instead, she seemed almost reluctant as she loosened her grip on his torso. It could have just been the motor vibrating, but he could have sworn she was shaking. Her doe eyes, no longer hidden beneath her bangs, gazed up at him frantically, glistening with unshed tears. Turbo's heart skipped a beat when, faster than lightening, that soft gaze sharpened into daggers stabbing into his code. Those hands that had, not even a moment ago, held onto him, reared back into a fist and swung.

"OW! OW! WHAT THE-? GLITCH STOP IT! DAMN IT, REAL IN THE CLAWS, YOU DAMN HELL CAT!"

"YOU STUPID, VIRUS! YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK! I THOUGHT I WAS GONNA DIE!" she screeched.

"DAMN IT, YOU CAN REGENERATE, FOR ATARI'S SAKE!" He quickly grabbed hold of her wrists before she could do anymore damage. By now her cheeks were flushed red with anger and the tears had finally given in to gravity. She was livid! Hysteric! And Turbo couldn't for the life of him, figure out why he wasn't enjoying it. She was upset, he should be happy, right! Wrong! To his horror there was only one logical explanation. The bond between them was strengthening by the minute, and he was becoming more sensitive to her emotional distress. He could no longer enjoy scaring her. At least not to the extent that he used to. Damn it all, he was getting in to deep. This was like sinking in Nesquik sand.

"Your not going to die, Vanellope! Do you honestly believe I'd risk my life like that?" he asked, staring straight into her hazel eyes. Despite the self serving nature of his explanation, her glare began to soften, and soon enough he released her wrists so they could fall limply to her sides. She sniffled for few short moments before huffing in a soft, tired tone, "No, I guess not."

"Good, so we reach an understanding! I'm not going to kill you, cause it puts my life in jeopardy, and I'm NEVER taking you through anymore secret passages ever again, cause you've got some SERIOUS trust issues!" he half joked. She giggled, so he assumed everything was good.

"Soooo, how many secret passages does this game have, anyway?" Vanellope asked. She was curious. She'd only known one and that seemed to be the only one Turbo didn't know about, until now.

"Dozens!" he answered informatively. "most of which are of my own creation. Those are the hardest to find!" He didn't know why he was telling her this, but as long as he didn't show her where they were, he was safe, right! Best not to divulge too much knowledge upon the ignorant glitch, lest she misuse it.

"Oh...cool!" the pixie chirped. It didn't matter if he told her or not. It would be funner to find them herself anyway. Jumping out of the kart, Vanellope stretched for a moment before turning back to her companion. "So, we gonna get a move on, or what? I'd like to get out of these shackles before the arcade opens, thank you! TO THE CODE ROOM!" she shouted, dramatically throwing one finger in the air.

Turbo barely had enough time to shut off the engine before she skipped out of the room. "Oh no, you don't glitch! There is no way I'm letting you get ahead of me!" he griped competitively. Tearing after her, he noted that he was slightly faster than he remembered. No physical limitations. Strange, but he wasn't complaining. In fact, the closer he got to Vanellope, the more his speed seemed to increase. Soon enough he was completely tied with the the female racer, running foot to foot, in sync. "That all you got, glitch!" he baited.

"Nope!" she chirped.

He raised a brow challengingly.

"THIS IS!" Suddenly, the spot next to him was all too empty, and a flash of blue lightening, signaled him to Vanellope's ever accelerating form. She glitched ten feet ahead before disappearing down an upcoming hallway. Turbo growled in aggravation and, despite how hypocritical he knew it was, cursed under his breath about 'Damn cheating glitches!'

In his attempt to catch up with her, he found himself somewhere in the middle of the castle. It was hard to tell where he was, actually! When Vanellope had reset the game, the inside of the castle had reverted back to it's previous decor. Gone where the busts, statues, and paintings of his visage. Replacing them were honeysuckle floral arrangements, taffy tapestries, and...MACARONI ART?!

Turbo stared at the childish piece of decoration, trying to decipher what exactly the picture represented.

He was shocked to find that it was a portrait of HIM! Not King Candy, but actually HIM! This didn't shock him near as much as the fact that the portrait wasn't recent at all. It was really quite old. The paper was yellowing and the macaroni was stale. A few pieces had fallen off in random places, leaving gaps filled with glue. He had the strangest feeling, like he'd seen the picture before. Unfortunately, he didn't have much time to contemplate this, for Vanellope suddenly came shooting around the corner, grabbing his hand and pulling him in a random direction.

"RUN!" she squeaked.

"What?"

"JUST RUN!"

'Can't argue with that logic!' Turbo mentally mocked, with a roll of the eyes. Nonetheless he followed. He didn't need to ask what they were running from, for soon the answer was revealed to him as an all too familiar voice echoed throughout the castle. "VANELLOPE!"

Gold eyes widening in fear, Turbo sped up substantially. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT WRECKER DOING HERE?

Before the voice could get any closer, Vanellope pulled Turbo toward a large set of white chocolate doors. She pulled the door open slightly, before spouting a quick "Hide in here!" and shoving him into the chamber within. Unfortunately, he didn't make it all the way into the room before she slammed the door closed.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Pain filled shrieks bounced off the walls of the royal hall, signaling Ralph to their whereabouts. His hulking form came bounding down the hall with all the grace of a crashing turbine. "VANELLOPE! ARE YOU ALRIGHT? I HEARD A SCREAM?" 'Ever the worry wart!' Vanellope giggled inwardly.

"Oh, that? Nah, I just smashed my hand in the door!" she covered without a flinch. She didn't like lying to her best friend, but desperate times called for little white fibs that were sure to follow her around. The last thing she needed was Ralph freaking out and pummeling Turbo to a pasty mush. That would surely be the end of her, judging from the feeling of pain she was sharing with Turbo at the moment. She did not mean to close the door on him like that.

"Oh, geez! Ouch! Maybe we should let Felix have a look at it. Ya know? Make sure nothing's broken!" Ralph cringed visibly. He didn't have overly sensitive hands, but smashing your way through rubble had it's downside. He had to go to Felix plenty of times after overdoing it. That hammer of his really could fix ANYTHING!

"Ralph, I'm fine, really! Besides, I can't just let Felix fix every boo-boo I get. You know I'm too accident prone for that!" This of coarse was true. While big mama Calhoun was fine with Vanellope ruffing it up a bit, Ralph and Felix, as overprotective as they were, had a bad habit of babying her. A simple scratch was all it took for Felix to pull out the hammer. One occasion had ended badly when he tried to fix her scraped knee, and the hammer had triggered her reflexes. She'd ended up kicking him in the nose by accident.

"Well, Ok, I guess." The wrecker was still worried, but he supposed she was right.

"So, what brings ya, Admiral Underpants? It's almost opening hours! Shouldn't you be in your game getting ready, instead of wasting time babying me?" As much as she would have loved to hang out with Ralph, she knew she had to deal with the angry racer that was, no doubt, throwing a silent tantrum in the room behind her.

* * *

"Damn, glitch!" Turbo muttered to himself, cradling his injured hand. Looking up, he found himself in what appeared to be the royal bedchambers. Purplish-pink wall paper covered the walls, riddled with designs of tiny crowns and swirls. The room was furnished with the finest of dark chocolate carpentry. Intricate hand crafted carvings were made into the masterpiece the was Vanellope's vanity. Strange, she didn't seem the type to care about her appearance. A light pink, crystal candy chandelier hung delicately above a large, round queen sized bed with a heart shaped headboard. The sheets were woven from the sweetest of cotton candy and the pillows were the finest pickings of Marshmallow Meadows. Truly a room befitting a princess. There was only one problem to Turbo. The room didn't seem to fit Vanellope's personality at all. For some reason this made him dislike the room greatly. He sneered at it before turning back to the door to eavesdrop. Taking off his helmet he pressed his ear against the white chocolate, so as to better hear the conversation being held on the other side.

First he heard the muffled voice of the wrecker. "Come on, kid, we don't baby you that much!" this was followed by an indignant huff from the princess herself. "Are you kidding? You and Felix take the term 'mother hen' to an all time high. I thought Tammy was supposed to be the mom." Turbo snorted. Apparently, an argument was being started without him. How rude!

"Yeah, but, Kid-"

"Ralph, I'm not a kid, I'm seventeen! I'm about to be eighteen, for Atari's sake! I drive, I run a kingdom, I rule my own game! What's it gonna take for you to understand that I can handle myself. I was alone for a long time, okay! I'm not used to all this people fussing over me biz!" Turbo could practically feel the irritation coming from Vanellope in waves. For a moment there was silence. Then the wrecker spoke.

"Ok...ok, I get! I know me and Felix can be a little, y'know...overbearing. It's just...we worry sometimes. Felix, he sees you as the daughter he can never have with Calhoun. And me, well, I know I'm not that good the whole family setting, but you're like a little sister to me...and I guess I kind of take the 'little' part a bit too seriously sometimes."

"A bit?" came the impish retort of Vanellope. Turbo could hear the smirk in her voice.

"Ok, ok, a LOT!" Ralph chuckled. "Soooo, not to seem like a huge 'mother hen', but do you mind explaining why Sour Bill came racing into my game, freaking out like someone licked him?"

There was a long pause. Turbo stood frozen to the door, just waiting for the little glitch to rat him out.

Then finally a voice that was Vanellope's...but didn't sound like her at all, spoke up in a regal manner.

"It's nothing serious, Ralph! One of the other codes was tangled up in mine, and it caused a minor complication with my glitch. Nothing to be worried about. I'm used to it by now. It just surprised me is all." Turbo couldn't help it, but be impressed with the pixie. Throughout all the years he'd been hunting Vanellope down, he'd come to the hilarious realization that she couldn't lie to save her code. She was just terrible at it. She'd stutter, and blush, and always look to her left. She just couldn't lie to him. But, with the wrecker, she seemed to just pull the lies out of thin air. This interested Turbo greatly.

"Well, if you're sure that's all it was-" Ralph pressed on.

"I am!"

"Then I...guess I'll just see you later then. Have fun racing!...Oh, and uuh...be careful!"

"Raaaalllf!" Vanellope whined.

"Alright, I'm going! I'm going!"

Large stomps were heard leaving the hallway.

Silence

'And then there were two!' Turbo joked mentally. Sure enough, blue binary flashed through the door, before reassembling to reveal a very tired looking Vanellope Von Schweetz. She dragged her feet, as she passed Turbo, who at the moment was leaning against her vanity with his arms crossed. "Trouble in Paradise?" he pried. For a moment her hazel eyes flickered up to his face, widening ever so slightly, as if surprised he was there,... then she glared. This irritated him. 'Surely she didn't forget about me that fast.' His golden eyes followed as she headed for the giant piece of fluff she called a bed.

"Uh, what are you doing, glitch! We have to get to the code room, so I can find a way out of this mess you created!" He was becoming vexed by all these distractions.

"Look, I'm tired, Ok! Unlike you, who got to have a nice tree induced nap-" He glared. "I've been up since the arcade opened yesterday. I really, really, REALLY need to sleep, or I won't be able to race today. Between dealing with you, and Ralf, and codes, I'm pooped!" she complained, plopping her head face down into a marshmallow.

His glare never wavered. "And what, pray tell, am I supposed to do while you're snoozing?" he demanded with arms crossed.

"I don't know. Eat a pillow or something. Play with the make up I never use! Just...let me sleep!" her voice muffled through the pillow.

He thought for a moment, before huffing out a simple "Fine!" She took this as the end of the conversation, and her cue to get some shut eye. She didn't even take her boots off, she just let herself fall into peaceful slumber. His arms permanently crossed, Turbo plopped himself down by the side of the bed, not knowing what to do with himself, and definitely not taking up any of her options. He simply sat there, listening to the soft, even sound of Vanellope breathing.

And he waited.


End file.
